


Stars in his Eyes

by HoldenMacrae



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Footloose - Freeform, Jensen Singing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 14:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12937521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoldenMacrae/pseuds/HoldenMacrae
Summary: Misha is given directions from Vicki to go to a bar and wait. He thought it odd, since Vicki was back home and he was away for a con. He sits, waits and checks the time regularly to see what will happen at 9 p.m. When he finds out, he falls a little further in love.





	Stars in his Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hallemcready](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallemcready/gifts), [Serenhawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenhawk/gifts).



> Wrote this for HalleMcready and had the pleasure of Serenhawk offering to do beta ( thank you ). I do believe in this ship, but I normally write Destiel that is full of sacrifice and heartbreak ( Yes, I will do my best to punch you in the heart ). This was a fun little piece and I did enjoy writing it. Hopefully you enjoy reading it. This is also my very first public post of my writing, please be gentle.

The ice cubes slide to the front of the glass and crash against the soft lips, cooling the flesh. Vodka mixed with tonic flows down his throat, providing instant satisfaction as the carbonation pops and fizzes along its path down. He surveys the environment and its patrons, the locals enjoying their Friday night relief as alcohol wipes away the frustrations of the previous weeks tribulations. Nearby, the bartender rings a bell in honor of the generous tip left by a woman buying a round of shots for her and her friends. He watches her deftly navigate through the inebriants as they crowd her path, then reaches her destination to a welcoming roar of cheers from the table.

 

Beyond the ladies, he spots a solo patron at the end of the bar contemplating what he sadly imagines are poor life choices as he slowly stirs the ice in the bottom of his empty glass, but then a loud holler draws his attention to the left as two couples take the dance floor. The men are dressed in similar fashion as are their partners; the men wear plaid shirts tucked into tight jeans resting above cowboy boots, and the ladies in dresses that flow and billow as they spin around their dates. Beyond the dance floor, a group of fresh of age men play pool, two of them congratulating their victory with a kiss as the defeated share a hug of shame.

 

A small smile breaks on his face as he takes in the scene before he’s interrupted by the approaching waitress, offering another order. 

 

“Yes, please. Oh and please send another drink to the man at the end of the bar, on my tab. No need to let him know it was me.”

 

The server delivers a kind look of understanding and takes her leave. Left to himself, he leans forward and rests his elbows on the small table and corals the small candle holder, his eyes drawn to the details in the hand blown glass. Small, pleasing imperfections become visible as he looks on while the small flame flickers, illuminating the contours of his face and dark, tousled hair.

 

The waitress slyly admires the man as she returns with his order. His big soft lips stand out only to be forgotten as the lights and curling flame strike his crystal blue eyes. “Here you go sweetheart, one vodka tonic. Extra vodka,” she winks.

 

Her patron sides her a twenty and asks for no change in return. 

 

“Aren’t you just an angel?” she remarks before she turns back for the bar.

 

His lips curl at that.

 

He takes hold of his beverage, the glass crisp and cold to the touch. It offers a familiar comfort; the kind that erases all panic, anxiety or other relative stress. Not dissimilar, he thinks, to being tucked in as a child, or the embrace of a lover.

 

The stray thought prompts him to check his watch. It’s nine straight up.

It’s time. 

 

His eyes travel over the mingling bodies towards the door. Sure enough, it soon opens and lets in a new customer, causing an honest smile to settle broadly on his face. 

 

Only a few notice the newcomer at first as he cuts through the groups of unsuspecting patrons. His hair is perfectly done - a slight fade drops from the neat mess atop his head blending into the subtle layer of stubble accentuating his jaw. A fitted leather jacket partially conceals a bright flannel. Colors of blue, purple and pink cross hatch the fabric and rest over the dark fitted jeans covering athletic legs, lean and long right down to light brown dress shoes. 

 

The watcher may have well been carved from stone, never breaking his gaze even as the new arrival reaches his destination to lean forward and rest one arm along the jukebox. The glow of lights showcase the perfect face as he scans for the right song. Though his carefully casual stance shows he knows he is being watched by many, he displays himself for one person in particular, bending one leg slightly to display his behind and slowly pushing the jacket aside to offer a better view.

 

The man in the booth leans forward and giggles warmly to himself. He grabs his drink and swirls it around, the ice cubes crashing the walls to make small chiming noises. The song fades to an end and the dancing couples bow to each other before leaving the floor leaving the bar is humming with inaudible conversations. 

 

By the jukebox, the newcomer awaits his songs introduction while the man in the booth is distracted by his phone vibrating against his leg. He pulls the phone out and the glow from the screen lights up his curious face. 

 

_ Has it started? _

 

He replies with a simple  _ Yes _ followed by the winky face emoji, before he pockets his phone and zooms his attention back on the figure across the room. He’s moved to the front of the machine and stands at ease with his legs spread apart in a vee.

 

Suddenly, the music starts and the performance begins with the tap of one foot along with the beat. He prepares for the vocals and slowly draws an imaginary mic to his mouth. Conversations start to drop as more patrons begin to notice the unexpected entertainment. 

 

_ Standing in the rain,with his head hung low _

_ Couldn’t get  ticket, it was a sold out show _

_ Heard the roar of the crowd, he could picture the scene _

_ Put his ear to the wall, then like a distant scream  _

_ He heard one guitar , just blew him away _

_ He saw stars in his eyes, and the very next day  _

 

He spins, and all eyes in the room have fallen on him as people gather under his spell. The watcher in the booth is forced to stand to overlook the massing crowd obstructing his view. 

 

He sings the next verse accompanied by what appears to be a rehearsed routine. As the line before the chorus ends he reaches out, sweeping his arm from left to right before stopping on the man standing in the back of the room. The crowd follows the point to its destination, and spontaneously cheer and sing along with the stranger into the chorus as the moment builds. The watcher in the booth can’t help but feel a rush of excitement flow through his entirety. 

 

_ And be a juke box hero ( got stars in his eyes ), he’s a juke box hero _

_ He took one guitar ( juke box hero stars in his eyes ) _

_ Juke box hero, (stars in his eyes ) he’ll come alive tonight _

 

The chorus ends and the performer resumes tapping one foot along with the beat. The morphic fields are strong with the crowd as one energy consumes them all and they lose themselves to the moment. He begins to gyrate his hips and taps one hand against his outer thigh, then holds the invisible mic to his mouth and readies for the next verse.

 

_ IN a town without a name, In a heavy downpour ( the man gestures rain with his free hand as he wiggles his fingers as his hand draws down near his face) _

_ Thought he passed his own shadow, by the backstage door _

_ Like a trip through the past, to that day in the rain ( he picks up his pace along with the song )  _

_ And that one guitar, Made his whole life change _

_ Now he needs to keep rockin’ ( patrons begin to feel the moment and slowly embark on the dance floor), He just can’t stop _

_ Gotta keep on rockin’ , Someday gonna make it to the top _

 

The crowd gathers around the man and jump in unison as the chorus breaks in.

 

_ And be a juke box hero ( Got stars in his eyes ), He’s a juke box hero ( Got stars in his eyes ) _

_ Yeah, juke box hero ( got stars in his eyes )  _

_ With that one guitar, He’ll come alive ( stars in his eyes ) _

_ Come alive tonight _

 

Even as the audience surges, the performer ignores the erupting air guitars to zone in on his target in the booth, who is now recording the spectacle on his phone figuring the culprits will want to see this for themselves. 

 

_ He’s gonna keep on rockin, ain’t never gonna stop _

_ Gotta keep on rockin, Someday he’s gonna make it to the top... _

 

The performer is surprised as the young pool players hoist him up over the crowd. The watcher smiles with pride and laughs on as his lover is carried along the room atop his audience, who continue to sing along to the chorus. The man in the booth takes his que and steps forward to meets his lover as he is let down by the thronging mass. 

 

Misha smiles in admiration as Jensen mouths the last remaining words of the song. All he can think of is a mix of Foot Loose and Jensen’s onset performance of Eye of the Tiger, which he may have watched more times than he’d care to admit.

 

Jensen remains in character and owns the moment. Misha claps as the song fades out until Jensen approaches his lover and dips him to the cheers of the crowd, which turn to a mix of whistles, shouts and howls as Jensen crashes his lips into lovers’. As the moment begins to pass, Jensen pulls Misha up as the cheering fades to applause, and a few nearby patrons pat him on the back in honor of his act. He takes a quick bow and appreciate the last of the thunderous clapping. 

 

As people move away, he wraps an arm around Misha and walks him booth where they sit and take in the moment, thighs and shoulders huddled and grins plastered on both their faces. The waitress arrives unbidden with a round of drinks and congratulates them. They thank her and hold their glasses up first to her and then eyes in the crowd left watching them with an open  mix of curiosity and admiration.

 

“So, that is what I came here for huh.”

 

“Yeah, we’ve been working on it for weeks.”

 

“We?”

 

“It was Danneel’s idea. We were watching Foot Loose a few weeks back and... here we are.”

 

Misha’s smiled widened. “I thought it odd for Vicki to have me come here without explanation.”

 

“They know what it’s like for us when we’re on the road. This place is off the radar, and it’s safe.”

 

“We’ll have to remember it next time we’re in town. I’m sure the locals would appreciate another performance.”

 

Jensen bows his head, appearing briefly shy for the first time since arriving, before he takes drink and resumes looking pleased with himself.

 

The hours go by and the drinks keep coming; who knew all it would take was one song to get free drinks for an evening. They keep quietly to their booth save for a handful of appreciative winks and comments, and although it seems one or two of their fellow patrons might recognize them, the next day offers no trace of the nights existence on social media. This one is kept in hearts and minds, save for Misha’s recording.

 


End file.
